


Could We Start Again, Please?

by inamac



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Platform 9 3/4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamac/pseuds/inamac
Summary: What if Draco had realised, in Madam Malkin's, just who Harry was? What if he had never met the Weasleys? Think of this as Chapter 1 of "Neville Longbottom and the Philosopher's Stone"
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Could We Start Again, Please?

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in 2007 (pre-DH) for several reasons. Primarily that I assumed (along with many others) that post-DH we weren't going to have the Malfoys to play with any more (I'm more than happy to be proved wrong). And I wanted to write some Isaacs' Lucius as opposed (as he frequently is) to Rowling's Lucius. It's a wonderful 'voice' to write and I have this thing about voices... (comes of being bought up by the Home Service.) Then there are the perennial fannish questions: what if Draco had realised, in Madam Malkin's, just who Harry was? What if the Sorting Hat had insisted on Slytherin? What if Harry had never met the Weasleys? What if the Prophecy really meant Neville all along?
> 
> So think of this as an extract from Neville Longbottom and the Philosopher's Stone (movie version)

**Chapter 1 (and three-quarters)**

Harry Potter wished desperately that he had not been so over-confident of his new-found wizardry to dismiss Hagrid's offered help. Without the big man beside him the magic of Diagon Alley, Gringotts, and all the other incredible things that had happened in the past weeks seemed less real. The concourse of Kings Cross Station, crowded with commuters and families returning from holidays, and tourists loaded with backpacks, could not have felt more mundane.

He looked down at his ticket again. It definitely said Platform Nine and three-quarters. Which was ridiculous. Someone (probably in the pay of Dudley Dursley) was playing a gigantic joke. If Harry hadn't had eleven years of practice in hiding his feelings he would have burst into tears.

Fortunately he had also had eleven years of relying on his own wits. Telling himself sternly that yes, this was real, he had an owl on his trolley and a boxed wand in his luggage to prove it, he looked around the station again. There must be other wizards coming to get the train. And if Platform 9 ¾ existed then it was probably in the vicinity of platforms 9 and 10, so he was, despite the scepticism of the departed Dursleys, in the right place. Trundling his trolley to a vantage point where he could see the entrances to both of those platforms, separated from the rest of the concourse by a three foot high metal barrier, Harry scanned the crowds.

There was a girl, about his own age, accompanied by a professional-looking couple who were probably her parents. They certainly didn't look like wizards, but they did look very practical. He made to push his trolley in their direction, but the crowds swirled in front of him and when the space cleared she was gone, and he had to jerk the trolley out of the path of a family of red-heads, clearly hurrying to catch the holiday excursion train that was being announced so loudly over the tannoy that their conversation could not be heard.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was ten to eleven. What would happen if he missed the train? Should he go back to Diagon Alley? Could he?

And then he felt a tremble in the air and looked up to see someone who had certainly not been there a moment before, and who was unmistakably a wizard, walking confidently towards him. The man was tall, with a mane of pure white hair flowing over the shoulders of a black robe, clasped at the throat with a silver serpent broach. He was carrying a long, ebony stick, also mounted with a silver snakeshead. He moved through the crowd as though it wasn't there, and people moved aside to grant him passage without looking at him, or at the blond boy at his side. Neither of them had a hand on the trolley loaded with matching leather luggage and a cage containing a bad-tempered-looking eagle owl which trundled along behind them.

Harry caught up with them just as they reached the barrier.

"Excuse me, Sir. Are you…" He had been going to say 'a wizard', but as both of them turned to face him he recognised the boy as the one he had met in Madame Maklin's shop being measured for his robes. "Oh. Hello…."

The man, presumably the boy's father, grounded his cane and turned slowly to rake Harry with cold grey eyes. For a moment Harry thought that he would be ignored, dismissed, but then the eyes widened as they lit on his scar. "Well, well," he drawled, "The famous Harry Potter. How... fortunate... to meet you here."

Harry gave a sigh of relief. He'd been embarrassed by the reaction of the wizards in the Leaky Cauldron to seeing his scar , but now it was proving an asset. "Yes, Sir," he said, conscious that whoever this wizard was, he was clearly very important. "I was just wondering… where to meet the train. There doesn’t seem to be a platform 9 ¾."

"How very remiss of Dumbledore," the wizard said, apparently to himself, "not to give his important new pupil proper instructions. His standards are slipping. I shall have to speak to the other Governors." He looked down at Harry and smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, though it may have been intended as one. He gestured with his cane. "The entrance is before you, Mr Potter. The barrier is bespelled to admit Hogwarts students, and their parents. You only have to step through. My son will show you the way." He indicated the blond boy. "Draco?"

It was an order. Harry began to have some sympathy for the boy. Being ignored by the Dursleys seemed preferable to being bullied by this imperious wizard. It certainly explained his attitude in Madame Malkin's. The boy, (Drayco? Harry wondered whether he would be able to remember these odd wizarding names), beckoned with his wand for the trolley to follow him, stepped up to - and through - the barrier, and vanished.

"Simple," said the wizard. "I suggest that you push your trolley in front of you, Mr Potter. I will follow."

Harry did as he was told, closing his eyes as he passed through the barrier, feeling the same tingling sensation that he had when going through the entrance to Diagon Alley. He opened them to see a platform crowded with children and their families, all clearly eager to get aboard the carriages of the old steam engine drawn up to the platform. Behind him the silver-maned wizard stepped under the wrought iron arch that marked this side of the magical barrier and raised his cane to summon one of the many porters hurrying among the passengers.

"Take my son's luggage, and that of Mr Potter, to the Slytherin guard's van," he ordered.

The porter, who appeared to be a goblin similar to those Harrry had seen at Gringotts, took charge of both trolleys and hurried off.

The wizard consulted a silver-cased pocket watch that he had extracted from his robes. "Five minutes," he said. Then, "I fear that I have been remiss in my introductions, Mr Potter. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco, who is also starting his first year at Hogwarts. I do trust that you will be friends. I believe that you will find it useful to have someone from one of the principal pureblood families to help you find your feet. And, of course, as a member of the school's governing council I am always available to deal with any problems that you may encounter from the other pupils - or the staff."

The blond boy held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Potter."

"Call me Harry," he said, shaking it. "Draco? That's an unusual name."

"Family name," said the boy, in bored tones, as though he'd had to explain it a thousand times. It means 'dragon'."

"Oh," said Harry, momentarily worried that the boy might ask what 'Harry' meant - and he hadn't a clue. He was spared the question by the blast of the train's whistle.

"All aboard! One minute to departure! All aboard!"

Together the two boys jumped into the nearest carriage. It was going to be a long journey to Hogwarts, ample time for them to get to know each other.

Lucius Malfoy smiled to himself as he turned away. It seemed that Draco's error of judgement in Madam Malkin's had not been irreparable. The Boy Who Lived could be easily manipulated. It had not even needed Imperious. 

Steam from the departing engine billowed across the platform. When it cleared, he was gone.

***********

**Author's Note:**

> I found this going through my IJ posts and decided to archive it here. The original text and notes are on a computer that I no longer use, but there is apparently this chapter, and a Snape/Lucius exchange from 'chapter 3' - which I will post as an addenda if I find it. That really rather depends on Lucius' agenda. I'm sure he has one…


End file.
